


The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth

by mikkimouse



Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Drunk Owen Burnett, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, I tried anyway, M/M, kinda soft at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 09:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22967992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: It was just supposed to be a quiet evening at the theater, watching a play they'd seen a dozen times. But apparently even a date night can't go as planned.
Relationships: Puck | Owen Burnett/David Xanatos
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paintedrecs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedrecs/gifts).
  * Inspired by [All Is Mended](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22636003) by [paintedrecs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedrecs/pseuds/paintedrecs). 



> So earlier this year [paintedrecs](https://twitter.com/paintedrecs) started watching _Gargoyles_ , and ended up screaming about it a lot, and look, I'm just trying to be a supportive friend so I encouraged the screaming. And the fic writing, because I always encourage fic writing. And then I read [her fics](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640824) because, again, I'm trying to be a supportive friend here and long story short, that's how she dragged me into this ship with her despite me never having seen a single fucking second of this show. 
> 
> (I've seen a lot of screenshots at this point, though. XD)
> 
> If you haven't read her fics, you absolutely should because 1) they're _fantastic_ and 2) because they're the basis for how I read these characters and their relationships. Although Fox isn't mentioned in this fic (at least, not by name), she and Xanatos are still married, their relationship has always been open, and she knows about his relationship with Owen.
> 
> The premise for this fic itself came about because painted and I started talking about whether Puck had seen _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ (answer: yes, a lot) and then I remembered that there exists a version of the play where Puck and Oberon kiss and. Well. This happened. 
> 
> (Title is, obviously, from that play, because _come on._ )

It was a bit of a private joke between the two of them, going to see _A Midsummer Night's Dream._ Owen had apparently been somewhat instrumental in the original creation of the play, and when Xanatos had pressed the question, had admitted he'd performed in a few productions over the centuries (although, he said with a laugh, never as Puck). Xanatos had gotten in the habit of checking for performances every time they landed in a new city; if _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ was indeed showing somewhere, he rearranged everything so he and Owen could attend. So far they'd seen it probably a dozen times together; Xanatos never got tired of Owen's dry comments and quiet amusement. 

So when he saw it was at the Globe while they were going to be in London, Xanatos had booked tickets before their flight even landed at Heathrow. 

He always enjoyed going to the theater with Owen, but it was especially nice to sit next to him pressed thigh-to-thigh, with Owen's hand resting lightly on his knee. Xanatos dropped his arm along the back of the bench seat and rubbed his thumb idly against Owen's shoulder. The wooden bench wasn't exactly comfortable, but the company certainly made up for it. 

Everything was going swimmingly and roughly the same as usual, right up until the Puck onstage bounded over to the Oberon and kissed him full on the mouth. 

Huh. _That_ was new.

Pain shot through his knee, and Xanatos only just kept himself from yelping out loud. Owen was gripping him so hard Xanatos could feel the imprint of his fingernails through his pants, and he was...

Owen looked like he was about to be sick.

_Shit._

He got an arm around Owen and hauled him out of his seat, then all the way out of the theater entirely. As soon as they were outside, Xanatos had his phone out to call for a car, a process which took less than thirty seconds, and then turned his full attention to Owen. "Owen, are you—" 

_All right_ was how he'd intended to finish the sentence, but it was blatantly obvious that Owen was _not_ all right. Even outside, where the only light came from a handful of street lamps, he looked too pale, and his hands were clenched at his side in shaking fists. 

Xanatos cursed under his breath and ushered him away from the theater, closer to the river, and found an unoccupied bench where they could sit. Owen still hadn't uttered a word, but he seemed to relax minutely once they were sitting again. 

Xanatos kept a protective arm around his shoulders, torn between a desire to pull him closer and a desire not to crowd Owen right now. "Can I get you something? A drink of water?" 

Owen shook his head and leaned against him, and Xanatos took the invitation to hold him as tightly as he dared and press his face into Owen's hair. He didn't say anything else; he wasn't sure there was anything he _could_ say. He could only hold Owen and stroke his arm every time a tremor ran through his body. 

"I'm sorry, sir," Owen finally said several minutes later.

"For fuck's sake, Owen, don't apologize for that," Xanatos snapped, a little harsher than he'd meant. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize—" 

"I could hardly expect you to know what was going on in my head," Owen cut in. "You have many talents, Mr. Xanatos, but psychic abilities are not, to my knowledge, among them."

"Not yet," Xanatos muttered. 

Owen's mouth curved just slightly; it could hardly be called a smile, but he looked less like he was going to either vomit or faint. 

Xanatos debated asking his next question, since he was already fairly sure of the answer. But it merited asking, anyway. "Do you want to...talk about it?" 

"No," Owen said shortly. 

Xanatos nodded. Not surprising. 

His phone pinged with a message; the car had arrived. "The car's here. We can head back to the hotel, or..." 

"Or?" Owen asked. 

"Find someplace to get a drink." 

"A drink," Owen said decisively. "Definitely a drink."

***

Xanatos had the car drop them off at a small pub not far from the hotel. They didn't talk, they just drank, and Xanatos sipped his scotch while Owen worked his way through a series of drinks with frankly alarming speed. The bartender gave them a judgmental look until Xanatos slipped him a hundred-pound note with the whispered order to just bring drinks and leave them alone. 

(He _did_ have the bartender replace the last two drinks with water, though. Owen had had many experiences over his life, but Xanatos was reasonably sure "hangover" wasn't one of them and it would be smart to mitigate that particular experience as much as possible.) 

They spent almost two hours at the bar before Owen pushed his last glass away and shook his head at another. Xanatos helped him down from the stool and Owen sagged against him, obviously unsteady but otherwise not looking as though he'd spent the past two hours trying to consume his weight in alcohol. 

However, it was clear after three steps that Owen wasn't going to be walking anywhere on his own, and not for the first time, Xanatos found himself grateful that they were nearly the same height. It made it easy to put Owen's arm over his shoulders and slide his arm around Owen's waist without one of them ending up on their tiptoes or hunched over uncomfortably. 

Owen blinked owlishly; it was maybe the first time in nearly two decades of knowing him that Xanatos had seen him look even remotely unfocused. "I believe I'm very drunk, sir." 

"If you're not, I'd be extremely surprised," Xanatos said. "I think you went through an entire bottle by yourself." 

Owen frowned. "Is that a lot?" 

"Yes, Owen, that's a lot." 

They walked—well, ambled, to be more accurate about it—toward the hotel. The street was loud and packed with cars, while the sidewalk was loud and packed with people, and Owen grimaced with each step. Xanatos kissed the side of his head and tightened his grip on Owen's waist, then turned what Alex called his "murder look" on the crowd sharing the sidewalk with him. It was _amazing_ how quickly people got out of his way. 

Even close as the bar was, it still took them almost fifteen minutes to get back to their hotel suite, all the way at the top floor with London spread out beneath them. Only two lamps in the bedroom were on; Xanatos didn't bother with any other lights. He didn't really need them and Owen would undoubtedly prefer as little illumination as possible. 

He set Owen on the side of the king-sized bed and knelt in front of him to take off his tie. 

"Are you trying to get me out of my clothes, Mr. Xanatos?" Owen asked, his words only a little slurred. 

Xanatos kissed the corner of his mouth. "Of course. That _was_ my plan for this part of the evening."

"I, uh. Don't think I'm going to be very coordinated for any recer—reca—er, activities."

Xanatos pulled the tie out from Owen's collar and set it aside. "We're just going to sleep, Owen. Trust me, you don't want to have sex after that much alcohol." 

Owen gave him an outstandingly skeptical look. "I find that very difficult to believe, sir." 

He grabbed Xanatos's tie and pulled him in for an actual kiss, one that was messy and tasted a lot like scotch. Xanatos let him and kissed him back, although not as hard as he liked; he let Owen set the pace, and planted his hands on the bed to keep from pitching forward. 

Owen's free hand suddenly gripped his shoulder, like he was trying to steady himself. 

Xanatos grinned against Owen's mouth. "Is the room moving?" 

Owen grunted in response. "Can you make it _stop_?" 

Xanatos kissed his cheek. "I'm afraid not. It'll stop once we get into bed."

He quickly divested Owen of his jacket, shirt, and shoes, and then had to make him stand up in order to finish undressing him. Owen protested at the movement. 

"Last time you have to stand up, I promise," Xanatos said. "You can get into bed after this." 

"I can get into bed with my pants on." Owen sounded extremely put out.

Xanatos tossed Owen's belt aside and undid his pants. "You'll regret it in the morning." 

Owen made a noise like he disagreed, but he didn't protest further. 

Xanatos finished undressing him and helped him into bed, and Owen sank into the pillows with a moan that normally coincided with their other activities. 

Xanatos started removing his own clothes. "I'm almost jealous of those pillows." 

"Hng," was all Owen said. 

Xanatos tossed his clothes aside and climbed into bed; Owen turned over and traded the pillows for Xanatos's chest, curling up against him with an arm around his waist. 

Xanatos gently removed Owen's glasses and set them on the bedside table. "Has the room stopped moving?" 

"Mm, somewhat." 

Xanatos leaned back against the headboard. "Well, that's good at least." 

They lay together, Owen's body gradually getting heavier and his breathing evening out. Xanatos sighed with some measure of relief; he knew this didn't mean things were fixed, exactly, but if Owen was relaxing enough to sleep, it meant he was better than he'd been a few hours ago. Although Owen had opened up more since they'd actually started a relationship, there was still a lot he didn't discuss about Avalon and his life before, and Xanatos wouldn't ask him to. The fact that Owen had once run rather than face Oberon directly told him more than enough.

Not for the first time, Xanatos very much wished he could put a fist into Oberon's face and actually have it be an effective deterrent. 

"It's been a year since Alexander finished his training," Owen finally said, breaking the silence. 

There was no emotion in his voice, just a simple statement of fact, but one which held a wealth of explanation and complications behind it. 

Xanatos ran a hand down his arm. "I'm—" 

"Don't apologize. I chose this." 

"I wasn't going to apologize," Xanatos said quietly. "The alternative was losing you and Alex. I'm too selfish to pretend I'm sorry you stayed with me."

Two of the three pieces of his heart. He couldn't imagine what he'd have done if Oberon had succeeded in taking Alex and Owen away.

No, that was a lie. He did know. He'd have burned down the world to get them back. 

He drew his hand back up Owen's arm, not really sure which of them he was trying to soothe with the motion. "I _am_ sorry I haven't figured out how to fix it yet." 

"It's all right if you don't." 

"Owen—" 

Owen's arm tightened around him, enough that he recognized the warning to be quiet. "It's all right," he repeated softly. "The alternative was leaving you. That...would have been worse." 

"Worse than being banished and stripped of your powers?" Xanatos asked.

"Yes." 

Such a simple, frank answer, and even now, after nearly fifteen years, Xanatos still couldn't fathom it. But then again, he'd been offered the very thing he'd spent his entire life chasing, and he'd chosen Owen instead. Because the alternative was a life without Owen in it, and that was untenable. 

Normally, at a juncture like this, he would turn to sex, to show with his body what he still had trouble putting into words. But he doubted Owen would appreciate that much right now—or at least, would appreciate it less than he wanted to—so Xanatos lifted Owen's hand and kissed each finger, then his palm, then his wrist. 

He felt, rather than saw, the curve of Owen's smile. "Thank you." 

He wasn't entirely sure what he was being thanked _for_ —whether it was for the kisses or the listening or the alcohol or a combination of all of it—but it didn't really matter. Xanatos kissed Owen's wrist again, and then folded their hands over his heart. "Anytime." 

"I do have one other request," Owen said. 

Xanatos rubbed his thumb along the side of Owen's hand. "Whatever you want." 

"Please don't let me drink that much ever again." 

He couldn't help it; he chuckled. "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Is this the last I'll write for this fandom? I'd like to say that it is, but let's be real, with my track record, you're probably in for a few more at some point.
> 
> Especially considering that I really, _really_ need to see someone just fuckin' deck Oberon.
> 
> Come see me on:  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mad_madam_m)  
> [Tumblr](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/)  
> [Dreamwidth](https://mad-madam-m.dreamwidth.org/)  
> [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/mad-madam-m)


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